The Wallflower Predicament
by pendurhh
Summary: The pureblood, the bookworm, the tart, and the deviant. Read their stories as the war unfolds around them, in a time of death and destruction, there are must be important things to worry about than being popular? Wrong. Not everyone wants to be noticed.
1. Prolouge

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

Introducing, Edith Annabelle Fawcett.

As I lowered the carefully folded tin foil to the stained porcelain, my heart raced violently, beating ruthlessly against my chest, urgently trying to escape my ribcage.

My brown eyes shined from their dull sockets as I ogled my reflection in the blemished mirror, my hand trembled as I tried to light a tatty cigarette that I had found rolling around the bottom of my handbag. My red lipstick stained a small circle around the rim as I inhaled shakily.

I wondered where all my time had gone, a whole summer spent in the blink of an unfocused, bloodshot, eye.

Meet, Paisley Lawrence Macleod née Gillyflower.

Gently caressing the dog-eared page, I sighed in pent up frustration and fatigue. I heard the shop bell tinkle in the distance.

Rolling my eyes, I firmly closed the book and stacked it neatly with the rest of its kind on the heaving bookcase.

Smiling at the alphabetization, I inhaled deeply; a flurry of dust flew up around me, stinging my eyes and tickling my nose.

I sneezed.

''This shelf needs dusting.'' I spoke to myself; there was no one else around. Except for the books, they were better company than any _person _I knew.

Though, I didn't actually know that many people.

Pleased to meet you, Althea Cordelia Selwyn

Stretching out my pale legs onto the sandy beach, I quietly sighed to myself. Bored out of my skull.

''What was that, darling?'' the boy sitting next to me asks,

I grunted something in reply, stiffening slightly as he put his arm around me in what he thought was a loving embrace, I closed my eyes, shielding my emotion-less pupils from the blinding French sun. He rubs my white arm with his contrasting tanned hand, before turning back to talk to his friend. Thankfully, ignoring me again.

I vowed never to let Estella leave me alone with my boyfriend again.

Say Hello, Nancy Prudence Bobbin.

I loudly chewed my Blueberry flavoured Drooble's Best Blowing gum, stopping to pout my full lips in my looming vanity mirror, before meticulously applying another coat of shining pink lip gloss.

Satisfied, I put the lip-gloss down and inspected my handy work, until I noticed I had missed a spot. Frowning, I wiped it off and began the process again, only this time, one lip was glossier than the other, I threw the lipstick at the mirror in frustration, how would I ever snag the mysterious-attractive-oblivious- sex-god that was Sirius Black if I couldn't even put on lip-gloss right?

Paisley Macleod spends so much time with her nose pressed against the comforting pages of books she doesn't know how to cope in the real world. Being a wallflower is what she was born to be, and if anyone tries to change that, they'll be wasting their time. She's spent her 4 years at Hogwarts building a sanctum, filled with books, after all, who needs human companionship when you can find it in the sturdy pages of books?

Althea Selwyn, does exactly as she is told. Always. She is the perfect pureblood daughter, with a respectable pureblood boyfriend and pompous pureblood friends. She doesn't associate with blood traitors or mudbloods. She is perfect in her parent's eyes. She is pureblood perfection. Known by everyone in her own house of Slytherin, known by everyone in Hogwarts. Constantly watched by all and sundry, enemies, admirers, friends, family... All she wants it to be unnoticed, invisible, so she can be free.

Nancy Bobbin desires nothing more than the love of her life to simply glance at her; she spends all her time vying for his attentions. Even if it means getting up at ridicules hours of the morning, to begin her long beautifying routine. Even, if it means that she's loathed by those she thinks are her friends. She'll do anything and everything in her power to get noticed. But, it's worth it if she get's Sirius Black to finally fall in love with her...Right?

Edith Fawcett's exploits into the world of ''popular'' are about to be shook up, after trying so hard to be one of ''those girls'' those pretty, popular, girls, that everyone knows and everyone likes, she's in too deep, over her head. Watch her drown.

**A/N: Sorry for the ridiculously short prologue, this is sort of like a teaser because I'm not very far along on this story, but it will be updated soon! Tell me what you think; is it a bit too serious? Too melodramatic? Should I shoot my computer monitor in the face and never ever write another story again? **

**You tell me. Review Please!**


	2. Introducing, Edith

Chapter 1, Introducing Edith.

As I lowered the carefully folded tin foil to the stained porcelain, my heart raced violently, beating ruthlessly against my chest, desperately trying to escape my ribcage.

My brown eyes shined from their dull sockets as I ogled my reflection in the blemished mirror, my hand trembled as I tried to light a tatty cigarette that I had found rolling around the bottom of my handbag. My red lipstick stained a small circle around the rim as I inhaled shakily.

I wondered where all my time had gone, a whole summer spent in the blink of an unfocused, bloodshot, eye.

I wandered the streets that were lit by the dim morning sun, the orange streetlamps shining arrogantly into my frail, watery eyes. Stumbling slightly, I came across a dilapidated bus stop and waited. My head was throbbing violently, reminding me of my misdemeanors of the night just passed.

A while later while rubbing my forehead, I glanced up the derelict road to see a bus approaching, I gingerly picked my feeble body off the bench and stuck my bruised arm out.

I climbed aboard and looked at the muggle driver awkwardly. Ah, what my grandmother would say if she could see me now.

''Where to?'' he grunted in a cantankerous voice. He looked exhausted, he was showing a five' o'clock shadow, and there were dark circles underneath his beady, bloodshot, eyes.

''Where are you going?'' I asked simply, blinking at the piercing fluorescent lights,

''Town centre.'' He answered roughly, he ripped a ticket from a small machine that made a lot of noise and handed it to me, ''A pound and twenty.''

''I don't have any money,'' I replied hoarsely, the driver gave me the once over and nodded. I started to turn and leave when I heard him grumble ''No charge.''

He must have felt sympathetic of me in my sorry state; my hair was a bird's nest, my eyes sunken and bloodshot, light purple bruises littering my pale, vein-covered skin.

I grimaced and took a seat at the back of the empty bus; I wrapped my skeletal arms around myself and leaned my spinning head on the cool, frosted glass.

Later, walking past an empty field on an abandoned country road, I broke a worn heel from my shoe and cursed silently as I continued to limp the lengthy journey home.

When I warily climbed through my purposely unlocked kitchen window, I frantically prayed to Morgana that my mother was still asleep.

I carefully climbed the carpeted stairs without making a sound, and entered the bathroom; I tentatively turned the tap till luscious searing water ran into the spotless porcelain bath.

I bathed quickly before tightly wrapping a towel around myself and gently wiping away traces of glitter from my eyelids.

I snuck down the hall into my bedroom, wading through the mountains of clutter that littered my floor, I picked up a t-shirt and shorts that smelled relatively clean and pulled them on wearily, before clambering into bed, I checked my ancient alarm clock, 6:47 it said, brightly.

When I finally lay slumped under my covers I felt the room spin around me. I closed my eyes tightly and waited for sleep to take me.

4 hours or so later, my older sister had been trying to wake me up for quite some time. She was jumping unashamedly on my bed, singing a song by one of those Muggle boy bands that grandmother didn't approve of at the top of her lungs.

''MUM! EDITH WON'T WAKE UP!'' Myra screeched, her voice cut through me like a knife cut through custard. Lying face down into my pillow, I exhaled deeply, ignoring every time she jumped on my shins.

''EDITH ANNABELLE FAWCETT! GET OUT OF BED THIS INSTANT! THIS IS YOUR MOTHER'S BIG DAY AND I WILL NOT HAVE YOU RUNI IT!''

''Nan said-''

''I heard what she said, toerag. I'm pretty sure Uncle Gilbert heard what she said.'' I replied sitting up, my fingers twitching conspicuously; a nervous habit I had developed when I started smoking, whenever I needed a cigarette my fingers would twitch infuriatingly.

''Uncle Gilbert is dead.'' Myra argued, obviously confused,

''GET OUT OF BED YOU SHAMEFUL LITTLE GIRL!'' My grandmother's screams cut in from downstairs.

''Exactly. They can hear her dulcet tones in the deepest fathoms of hell.'' I tossed my pillow at her, and it hit her face with a small thud. She took this as her cue to leave, as I heard the door slam shut I immediately let my body fall straight back down to my lumpy mattress, turning my head, I eyed the chaotic state my room was in.

Dirty clothes littered the floor, empty record sleeves were scattered everywhere, my posters were peeling off the walls, and there were used plates and glasses far and wide.

I groped for my bedside table and blindly searched for the handle to the drawer till my bony hand was probing for a small bottle of pills I kept there, sitting up I placed a single circular pill on my tongue before swallowing it dryly.

I wandered to my door and opened it cautiously, the smell of sizzling grease and burning toast overwhelming me to the point where I had to run to my bin, heaving into the small plastic basket, I felt disgusted at what I had become.

It had all began earlier this year, not that long after Christmas, it had been Remus Lupin's birthday, so James Potter and his fellow fifth years had decided to throw a party. My best friend Alice Chepsbury had dragged me to her Common Room and that's where it all spiraled downhill swiftly. Suspicious looking bottles were being passed around and being a naïve fourth year, keeping an open mind, I drank from one, thinking, '''Try it. You don't have to do it ever again if you don't want to.''

It burned my throat and made me choke, I coughed most of it up all over myself, and everyone laughed at me.

But I wanted to prove myself, prove that I was more than some tubby geek with bad skin.

I drank more. And more. Finally feeling a warm sensation that began in my stomach and spread slowly all over, to the tops of my toes and up to my ears, I felt more confident than I had ever felt before, the more alcohol in my bloodstream the less I cared about being an ugly, fat, weirdo.

It gave me the confidence I so desperately needed.

After a round of table dancing I passed out behind one of the armchairs and had to be carried up to Alice's dorm where I slept like a rock for the rest of the night. When I woke up in the morning I had to perform what I am now very familiar with and have affectionately named, The Walk of Shame.

I toddled down the Gryffindor girl's staircase to sarcastic but respectful applause and cheers from the Gryffindor's who had been present at the party, with what I learned was a hangover.

A hangover is when you open your eyes in the morning and wish you hadn't.

I was invited to a lot more parties after that, even a few Slytherin ones, mainly so people could laugh at my drunken antics the next morning but it was all the same to me, I enjoyed it, the attention, the confidence, I loved it.

But soon, it took more than a couple of bottles of Ogden's Best to give me that buzz I craved, so I went looking for other ways to get my fix.

It was unbelievable how easy it was find things of an illicit nature once you've started searching.

Now, I've done everything. You think it, I've done it. All the things you never dared, all the things you dream about. I've done it before you've had your second cup of afternoon tea.

I once encountered a wizened old hag in the Hog's Head who had slurred to me, ''Reality is a crutch for people who can't cope with drugs.'' So I carried on, spiraling down, into the depths of seediness, and grime. It had only taken me a few months to get where I was today.

Everything fell to the sidelines as I found new ways to get my fix, my friends, my grades, everything.

I developed an attitude. Or a backbone. Same difference.

And to think just a few months ago I wanted to be wholesome and nice, because following the crowd wasn't cool even if it made you cool.

Eyeing my own vomit with repugnance, I wiped my mouth with the back of my mouth and crawled back to my head in a daze. I hid my head under my grimy silk pillow and tried to fall back into my fitful sleep.

But my door burst open again and I could tell from stony silence that my older brother was standing in my doorway, too proud to soil his feet by entering my room.

''Are you awake?'' he spat at me, I raised two particularly malevolent fingers in a sarcastic salute at what I hoped was his direction and stayed put under my pillow.

''I'm going to make this short, so stop being a egocentric bitch and listen, I don't care what the hell you were doing last night, but I'm sure that grandma would, so if you don't want her to find out, pull yourself together and get your idle arse out of bed and start getting ready for the wedding.'' He slammed my door shut with so much force that several unread books came tumbling down from their cluttered shelves to join the mess on my floor.

Just because Jarvis was older than me he thought he had some kind of power over me. I liked to let him think he did, it was easier that way.

I turned resignedly and let myself drop to the floor with a painful thud.

I rummaged through my wardrobe for something scandalous enough to exasperate my grandmother, I happened upon a black cocktail dress with a lace collar and sleeves. I slipped it on over my slight frame and tried not to tear my tights as I pulled them on impatiently over my scrawny, black-and-blue legs.

I sat down cross-legged and holding a grimy vanity mirror in one hand, I started to apply lots of prominent eyeliner; I still hadn't had a cigarette, so my hand twitched at the exact wrong moment and I ended up poking myself harshly in the eye. I quickly clapped a hand over my eye and ran for the bathroom, I opened the door to find Myra plucking her monobrow.

I wish.

She was stuffing her bra.

In my dreams.

She was dead; her lifeless body was hanging from a noose tied to the ceiling fixtures.

Pfft!

She was actually caking on her beautifying potions, because Merlin forbid anyone actually saw what her face really looked like.

''Move your fat arse!'' I exclaimed as I shoved her violently, she fell into the bathtub with a hollow thump.

Paying her no attention, I turned on the hot water and splashed my face urgently.

I glanced into the mirror, eyeing my morbid reflection.

I flinched at the unsightly dark circles under my bloodshot, watery eyes. A light blue bruise graced my blemished cheek. Water dripped from my gaunt, hollowed face. My hands were twitching inattentively.

''You tart! I'm telling mum!'' Myra screeched, trying to stand in her horribly unflattering bridesmaids dress robes.

Grandmother had explained to me that it would better for everyone if I was an usher instead of a bridesmaid this time. I wonder why. It probably had something to do with me, associating with all those filthy muggle this summer. Or maybe it was the fact that I'd purposely spilt red wine on the Maid of Horror-er, Honor, at the last wedding.

I turned and headed back to my room, slamming the door, unheeded by my older sisters screams.

A poster for a muggle film came tumbling down; I kicked it away and proceeded to turn the knobs of all the locks I had recently installed on my door. I double checked the door was totally and completely secure before I collapsed on my bed.

Closing my eyes, I rubbed my aching head before pulling the complete works of Edgar Allan Poe from under my mattress; I'd hollowed out the inside and kept a bottle of gin within the pages. Unscrewing the cap with my twitching fingers, I brought the neck of the glass bottle to my lips drinking till the bottle was half empty. I put the book back in its rightful place and continued getting ready.

When I had finally put the finishing touches to my make-up, I made my way downstairs, stumbling slightly on the last step, I held onto the banister for balance. Everything had begun to look a bit fuzzy around the edges.

My mother and grandmother were in the second living room, and my mother was already wearing that hideous dress. It was even worse than the Myra's bridesmaids dress.

''Edith! Is that what you're wearing?'' Grandmother hissed at me, taking in my every flaw, every crack, every imperfection, and magnifying it a thousand times.

''Good morning to you too.'' I slurred snappily, crossing my arms, I leaned against the door frame, ogled all the disgusting frills and sequins and, sparkles. I shuddered just looking at it.

''Can't you wear something white? What about those pale-white dress robes I bought you last Easter?'' my grandmother chided, her sharp eyes shooting me daggers.

''Why?'' I snapped, a feeling of anger slowly bubbling in my stomach…or was that the gin?

''It's a white wedding.'' She insisted, narrowing her wrinkled eyes at me.

''I can see that. Very original by the way.'' I slurred, but my mother just clicked her tongue and turned around to gaze at herself adoringly in the full length mirror she had brought down from her bedroom.

I had sometimes jokingly considered putting an ad in the Prophet, warning people about the Serial-Marrier, out to marry unsuspecting wizards! Watch out, she wants commitment!

My mother has been married 6 times; this will be her 7th try. My father was husband number three, the only muggle my mother has ever married. It was a disaster, a momentarily relapse into the forgotten days, when my mother hadn't been completely afraid of my grandmother. We don't really see much of my father anymore; he's always very busy with his new family. That's what grandmother says anyway.

Myra's father was husband number two, he was dead.

Jarvis' father was husband number one and number four. They'd decided to give it another go, it hadn't ended well.

My mother was between weddings which meant we were living with my rich, widowed grandmother.

She's absolutely pureblood mad, my mother used to tell me about how she ran away countless times when she was little because she just couldn't take it. That is the only redeeming quality my mother has in my eyes, she doesn't care what kind of blood runs through someone's veins, to her, blood is blood. Plain and simple.

Sadly, my ambitious older brother spends far too much time in the company of my grandmother and has adopted her beliefs as his own. I once jinxed his forehead to say, ''Sheep.'' But he didn't find it funny. The most ironic thing?

He's a Gryffindor.

Probably the worst damn Gryffindor anyone's ever met. He keeps good, pureblood Slytherin friends. Which makes other Gryffindor's pretty wary of him.

Scowling, I left them to their fawning over my mother, I nearly tripped over our house-elf as I stumbled into the kitchen, I snuck a bottle of wine out of the fridge and headed back to my room to pour myself another drink.

The wedding had been the most mundane, monotones, boring event my grandmother has ever had the displeasure to invite me to.

It was now September 1st which meant that I'd have to go back to Hogwarts. My discontented mood was only slightly lightened by the fact that if I came back for the Christmas Holidays we wouldn't be living with grandmother, but she would probably still pop round for a visit more than necessary.

My mother dropped us off outside King's cross far too early, so I made my way down the muggle street; looking for a way to spend my time, that didn't involve being in the presence of my nauseating siblings.

There was a quaint looking café called Darlene's not far down the street, it looked like a nice place, little spindly chairs and worn looking tables, the patchwork table cloths looked homemade. The windows were steamed up and there were a couple of customers, a bell rang when I opened the door, _a plain girl reading a book looked up at me as I entered with disinterest before turning back to her book_. I shuffled to the counter, squinting, I ordered a large black coffee from the dithery old bird behind the counter. I paid quickly and left, I sat down on the pavement outside and lit up, _ah, cigarettes and coffee: an alcoholic's best friend!_

I sipped my coffee and idly watched the muggle traffic go past in between shallow drags from my fag.

When I had finished my coffee, I picked up my trunk and dragged it with difficulty to the platform; the station was finally getting busy so it was impossible to find a trolley. I slipped through the barrier unnoticed and made my way through the foggy throng of Platform 9 and 3 quarters.

I struggled to get my trunk onto the train, a few 6th years helped me and I searched for my best friend in the many crowded compartments.

I found her eventually, sitting with a tight-lipped, prissy looking redhead. I dumped my trunk unceremoniously in the middle of the compartment and flopped down on the seat opposite them before sighing.

Alice stared at me, her eyes wider than my house-elf's. Her mouth was agape and there was definitely shock in her perfectly hazel eyes.

''E-Edith?'' she asked quietly, shooting me fearful glances, no bear-hug, no squealing, not even a hello.

''In the flesh.'' I replied, rubbing my forehead, I had drank too much champagne at the wedding last night.

''I didn't recognize you.'' She replied honestly, still drinking in every aspect of my appearance, it made me feel uncomfortable.

And not a lot of people could do that. Only Alice could make me feel worthless the second I entered the room. She was just so perfect; she was pretty and petite, with short spiky hair, and a wide, bright smile. It didn't help she was almost as good as my grandmother as picking at my flaws. But on top of all that, she was still the nicest person at this godforsaken school.

''You look…sick. Is that why you haven't been writing, or replying to my letters… I didn't even see you at your grandmothers Summer Ball.''

The truth was I hadn't been invited to the Summer Ball. Something about me being an embarrassment to the family name.

And I had been too busy ruining my life to write to her, I hadn't thought she would actually worry about me or anything. I blinked at her slowly, rubbing my bloodshot eyes before replying quietly,

''No, I haven't been sick. I've just been…busy.''

''You're looking worse than Remus Lupin.'' She deadpanned, raising one eyebrow at my frail form.

''This is the kind of greeting I get?'' I protested, offended. Why did she have to pick on my faults as soon as I entered the carriage? Normally she waited until at least we were getting ready to go to bed. I didn't blame Alice, she couldn't help it. It was what she was good at.

The redhead had thus remained silent so far but I knew she was probably going to say something soon, she looked like one of those prissy, stick-up-her-arse, head-in-the-books, Ravenclaw-wannabe types.

''Hello. My name is Lily Evans.'' She leaned forward and extended her hand for me to shake, I stared her down coolly before rubbing my eyes again.

''You didn't say hello first!'' Alice persisted, ''you didn't even say, hi, how was your summer?'

''Hi, how was your summer?'' I replied sarcastically, disdain clouding my emotions.

''Don't try to be funny with me Edith.''

''Knock, knock.'' I said, grinning.

She didn't think it was funny.

Scoffing, I closed my eyes and spread myself over the seat, lying down, I tried to fall asleep.

I woke up spread-eagled on the floor when the compartment door slammed open.

I stood up abruptly and smoothed down my dress, sitting back down, I glared at the redheaded intruder as she sat down, fiddling with her shiny Prefects badge.

''How'd the meeting go?'' Alice asked her, ignoring me as I rummaged through my bag looking for a packet of cigarettes.

''It wasn't too bad; I didn't do anything too mortifying. Remus is the other Gryffindor Prefect, no surprise there. They just went over the rules and how everything was supposed to work, you know, rounds and all that. Nothing that I didn't know already.''

''Fair enough.''

''Anyway, now that Edith's awake, I'll probably be getting back to my friends now, if that's alright?''

''Yeah, course.''

Lily left the compartment, smiling sweetly as she slid the door shut.

I snorted.

''What?'' Alice asked me, eyeing me with a cautious expression.

''She's such a brown-noser.''

''Don't talk about Lily that way!'' she snapped.

''Oh. Touchy, are we?'' I mocked, running a hand through my knotted hair.

''Lily, had the good nature to sit with me, when I had no-one to sit next to because I wasn't even sure if you were coming back to Hogwarts this year.''

''Oh, no. Poor Alice would have had to sit on her own, inform the Ministry it's the end of the world!'' I mocked her, closing my eyes. I tried to fall back asleep.

Huffing impatiently, she left the compartment, closing the door with a sharp snap.

''Prat.'' I muttered before deciding to sod the sleep smoke another cigarette.

**A/N: Another short chapter, just an intro into the life of Edith Selwyn, I hope you're not confused by all these different main characters, there's four, but you'll all be able to tell them apart soon enough, I hope. Here's some unashamed advertising:**

**Read my other story, Johnny Segment, it's very different from this, it's a humor/romance fic, set in the Next Gen era, it's full of Boosh-ish-ness.**


	3. Meeting, Paisley

Chapter 2 Meet, Paisley.

As I flipped the thick page absently, completely absorbed in my book, I felt a stab of pain on my finger and quickly recoiled as blood trickled onto the page_. Damn, a paper cut._

Sucking on my finger impassively, I desperately tried to wipe the miniscule blood stain off the page. I eyed the clock on my bedside table and realized I was going to be late. I jumped out of bed energetically and hurried to the bathroom.

Showered and dressed, I hurriedly left my room and thundered down the stairs,

''Morning,'' the innkeeper greeted as I waved at him fleetingly before leaving the empty pub and made my way to the courtyard, impatiently tapping my wand on the brick wall, I barely waited for the passageway to open completely before I squeezed myself through.

Hurrying down the street I glanced quickly at the bustling Apothecary before I continued down Diagon Alley towards Flourish & Blotts.

After spending nearly all of my summer there last year they had offered me a job, as an assistant, part-time during the holidays because they kept catching me re-arranging their book displays.

The bell rung loudly through the muffled shop as I burst through the door, panting slightly. There was no sign of Tobias, the strict but helpful owner. Brushing down my skirt, I sighed in relief.

I jumped over the counter lithely and pulled out my uniform from my bag, I hadn't had time to get changed, I pulled on the plain maroon robes and pushed my fringe out of my flushed face before grabbing a stack of books and making my way to the Wizardographies section.

An hour or so later, when the shop had finally become bustling again, Tobias told me to mind the till while he showed a first year muggleborn around the shop with his clueless parents. The young boy looked at the huge stacks of books in awe, jumping slightly when he saw a picture on one of the covers wave at him. I was reminded of my first time in Diagon Alley, I had burst into tears when I my parent's had lost me in the Apothecary and a dog had started coughing up fireballs.

I flipped through my copy of Why I Didn't Cry When The Augurey Cried between customers, until Tobias went back to tending the till. It wasn't my favorite thing about working here; most of the customers were rude and pompous, and I wasn't exactly a people-person. But the 15% employee discount made up for having to serve discourteous customers.

I kept to the sidelines mostly, quietly minding my own business while I stacked shelves and alphabetized bookcases. Keeping the store tidy was a nightmare to put it bluntly. There was always something that needed to be put back where it belonged, or something that should be put back in the store room.

The books are why I'm really here. Books are my life. I live, breathe, and consume, books. There is nothing more satisfying in this world than that warm feeling you get in the pit of your stomach after flipping the final page of an enthralling book. It was what I thrived on; feeling the strong, sturdy, leather tome in my hands is what I crave more than anything.

I read always. I read while I eat. I read while I'm in the bath. I read while I walk. Reading is what I enjoy more than anything in the world. Sometimes I overhear people talking about how much they like reading, and I just want to stand atop a table and scream at them ''NO! I PROMISE YOU THAT I LIKE IT MORE!''

But I don't.

I'm not a very talkative person to begin with. Add books and what you've got is someone who almost never speaks_ unless_ spoken to. Books are my substitutes for friends. There is a plus side to so much reading though, I get straight O's in my exams. My class performance is another thing completely.

I read constantly, and what better place to read than a classroom? The best part is that no-one even notices that I skulk at the back of the room, hiding behind the pages of my latest discovery from the library.

The ringing of the bell and a large peal of laughter informed me that a large group of rowdy boys had entered the shop, they milled around the counter impatiently, loudly complaining about the service at the shop while I stood immediately in their line of sight, wearing the bright maroon uniform that identified me as an employee. It was truly remarkable how easy it was for people to simply not notice me.

I considered going over there to help them, but I knew that Andrew, the assistant manager was around somewhere, I'd let him deal with them.

So I continued to observe them idly, holding two editions of Dreadful Denizens of the Deep.

I was surprised that they were in Diagon Alley on their own; it could be dangerous, venturing out on your own, especially after nightfall. The Prophet was chock-full of articles about people disappearing without a trace, never to be found. And there were whispers, of dark wizards and murders flying from one gossipmonger to the next.

Sometimes while I walked the starlit streets of the Alley I worried about what was lurking in the shadows, but I brushed it off and hurried back to my cozy room at the Leaky Cauldron.

During my lunch break, I decided to grab a cup of coffee at that cozy little café next to Ollivanders; I read a classic muggle novel that my father had given to me, while I sipped my milky coffee and nibbled indolently on a scone.

The day passed by quickly, the shop was incredibly busy, full of students doing their last-minute shopping before school began in two days time.

I stayed in my room after work again; I preferred to read in silence rather than in the midst of the busy pub filled with unsavory characters. My father didn't mind that I was staying in the Leaky Cauldron this summer rather than at home, he worked nights so I didn't see him much anyway. We weren't exactly a well off family, but we between the two of us we coped. Even though it meant having to buy all my school things second hand. My mother hated having to live here, in dingy, grey London. She missed the Highlands of our native Scotland more than dad and I do. It's in her blood. That's why she went back.

Without us.

As soon as I closed the door of my room behind me firmly, I pulled of the unflattering maroon robes and gently placed my glasses on my bedside table, I didn't actually need glasses that badly, I simply wore them out of habit.

After an hour or so of reading, I decided to check that I had packed everything.

I emptied my trunk out on the floor and sat cross-legged as I ticked everything off my list again. It was getting dark, so I locked my door before settling down to read my charms theory textbook before falling into a passive slumber.

I woke up early the next morning and had breakfast downstairs in the inn, I read while I ate, but I was rudely interrupted as a plump witch tried to sit on me. She eyed me with disdain as if it was my fault for being so completely unnoticeable before moving to sit with her giggling companions at another table. Sadly this was actually far more common-place for me than I would like to admit.

On the way to work, I made my way through the near-deserted alley at a leisurely pace, reading as I walked. I helped Tobias open up shop and went back to the Dragons section, and continued where I had left off the night before.

Nothing much happened during that busy day except that a tall, freckly girl tripped over my foot as I sat underneath a table reading a classical Muggle American novel. She continued walking as if nothing had happened, not even bothering to apologize. Though she might not have noticed it was a persons' foot she had tripped over…

At the end of the day, I handed in my uniform and was handed a small leather money pouch filled with my pitiful wages.

I rubbed my arms absently, trying to ward off the cold as I hurried down the shadowy alley, I thought about all the people who had been disappearing, and wondered if it was because they walked alone, at night.

I sighed with relief when I finally entered the bright pub. Warmth spilled out from the fire and I shook off my worries as I said goodnight to the innkeeper before heading to bed. No reading for me tonight, I would be catching the Knight Bus bright and early in the morning, after all, I couldn't be expected to trek all the way to King's Cross with my trunk in tow, could I?

After an uneventful trip on the Knight Bus in the morning, I decided to treat myself to a cup of tea before I went through to Platform 9 and 3 quarters, I spotted a quaint teashop not far down the road from the entrance to King's Cross, and sat down in the warmth of the cozy café, reading a battered, second-hand copy of Ulysses.

Out of habit from working at Flourish & Blotts no doubt, I looked up every time the door opened and the small bell tinkled, this time it was _a painfully thin girl who entered, she looked too old for her few years, she could only have been about 15, like me. She ordered a coffee and then left, I watched her smoking out on the pavement_ before returning back to my book and brushing her from my mind.

When it was finally time to leave, I stood up and smiled pleasantly to the doddery old woman behind the counter before heaving my trunk down the busy street filled with rushing Muggles and a few Wizards, they were easy to spot in a crowd of Muggles, they always dressed a bit…odd.

I decided to take the barrier at a run this time, holding firmly onto the trolley, I held my breath as I swiftly entered the crowded platform and eyed the Hogwarts Express with delight, smiling broadly; it took all my strength to heave my trunk onto the bustling scarlet train singlehandedly.

I found an empty compartment and tried not to watch the tearful goodbyes and the promises of writing letters home.

I had already said goodbye to my dad at the beginning of the summer.

I missed him.

I pulled out my battered novel and continued reading in my empty compartment, now that I was safely aboard the Hogwarts Express I could probably do a Hover Charm to get my heavy trunk to the railing above, but being a rule-abiding Ravenclaw, I decided not to risk it. Instead I pushed my trunk against the seat opposite me, and I left my small backpack on the floor, beside my feet.

Finally comfortable, I decided to change promptly before I settled down to read. As I pulled the blind down over the door and window, I heard the shrill whistle which meant the train was about to depart, the platform was near-empty of students now, most of them were waving at their parents whilst they leaned out of their windows.

As I felt the train begin to leave, I got changed into uniform, sighing at the slightly worn state of my second-hand robes. I pulled a few strands of fabric from the edges of my frayed skirt before tying my blue and bronze tie tightly.

Satisfied, I brushed my hair back out of my face and sat down to enjoy my book.

Sadly I was interrupted almost immediately, when the door to the compartment slid open violently before slamming shut again.

I looked up in time to see a stocky, black-haired boy throw himself into the seat across from mine angrily. He put his face into his hands and remained like that, not even glancing in my direction. He muttered something about blood under his breath irritably.

I turned to my book and chose to ignore him, he obviously hadn't noticed me, but then again, _I was lucky he hadn't tried to sit on me!_

I left him to his half-deranged mutterings and tried to read my book in piece.

After a few minutes, the door burst open yet again. I clicked my tongue petulantly and continued to read, not even bothering to pay attention to what was going on.

''Sirius!'' I heard someone shout.

_It was bad enough_ that I had to try to read with that boy's muttering, but now they were at least three of them, maybe four. And they were all talking loudly, it sounded like they were trying to console the first boy. I tried not to listen in because it was rude, but I couldn't help it, after all, I couldn't read unless there was _total silence. _

I observed them sneakily from over the top of my book.

''It can't have been that bad!'' a sandy haired boy asked, his Prefect badge glistening in the light.

''You weren't there. For the whole summer, I was dying to just leave. Just leave them all and find someplace of my own. I'm going to leave. I can't stand it any longer. I was so close to leaving because… she tried to curse me! I'm lucky that I saw it coming and ran fast enough, but she caught up with me eventually…'' The first boy protested; a look of complete anguish upon his face.

A short boy sat down next to him and patted him on the back affectionately,

''Maybe you should stay at Hogwarts again this Christmas, I'll stay with you.'' A bespectacled boy insisted.

They all agreed. Encouraging him, until the pale, sandy haired boy sat down beside me. It took him a few seconds to look up at me in shock.

''Hold on, how long has she been here!'' he asked his companions. Not bothering to ask me, I turned back to my book, ignoring their sudden exclamations as they all voiced their surprise at my sudden appearance.

''Has she been sitting there this whole time?''

''I'm sure I didn't see her when I walked in.''

I could've sworn I saw one of them shrug from the corner of my eye and turn back to the first boy.

_Nice to meet you too._

I held my tongue and continued to keep my eye trained on the page, determined not to look up. I would turn invisible again in…3…2…1…

''Remus? Don't you have a Prefects meeting?'' they were completely distracted again, thank god.

''I'd better go.'' The pale boy sitting beside me stood up abruptly and left the compartment. I continued ignoring them royally trying to focus on my book.

I must have fallen asleep because the train jerking loudly to a stop suddenly interrupted my dreams. My head collided against the window I was leaning against. It was completely dark, I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and stood up wearily, gathering my things, I exited the train swiftly.

I jumped into the nearest empty horseless carriage and began reading my book again. Turning a page, I felt the carriage shudder as it began to move towards the castle. I leaned forward to close the door and sat down, sighing. I couldn't wait till the feast was over. The sooner the feast was over, the sooner I could make the long trek to Ravenclaw tower and collapse into the yielding four-poster bed that was calling my name.

**A/N: Another short chapter sorry, the next two will be just as short I'm afraid, since you'll be saying Hello to Nancy Bobbin, etc. Though chapter 5 will be the first REAL chapter, in my opinion, since school will finally have started and all that, it will be around 6k words, because that's how much I normally write, so basically double this chapter.**

**Well, you've been introduced to Edith Selwyn, and now you've just met Paisley Macleod. She's slightly boring compared to Edith isn't she? **

**What did you think? Review please!**


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